Tristan was in a foul mood. His eyes searched the hallways, the dining room at breakfast, and the morning training grounds, but not once did he see Zoriana. He usually took lunch in his study, but today he ate with the pack, hoping she might appear. The hall was filled with werewolves eating, chatting, and laughing, but Zoriana’s seat remained empty.“Don’t forget what day it is,” Fairuza reminded him cheekily, breaking his train of thought.“How could I forget your birthday? Especially when you’ve reminded me fifty times this week,” Tristan joked. He forced a small smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve planned a dinner for you tonight and found the perfect gift.”Fairuza pouted. “Are we celebrating in the pack house again?”“What? Don’t you like the pack anymore?” Roman teased.“I do... but for five years, I’ve been hiding. I only get to see the mall if I’m surrounded by a small army of bodyguards. I just want to go out... just once. To a club,” Fai
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